Letters: Twin and Tonic in Blitz era London

Dear Sir,

I feel compelled to bring to your attention a most curious incident that befell me the past Saturday evening. The reason that I believe it to be of interest to you is that during what I can only assume to be a concussion induced delusion I do believe that I saw your wonderful band Twin and Tonic playing to an extravagant party in Blitz era London! I did not believe previously that time travel was possible, but the events of said evening are leading me to believe otherwise…

It all began when, during one of my regular aerial excursions in my reconditioned Hawker Hurricane, I was forced to make an emergency landing in the Shoreditch area of London. Swerving to avoid a young hoodlum with a rather peculiar asymmetrical hair style, I crashed through a wall of a bricked warehouse building causing me to bang my head rather severely and in turn to lose consciousness. It is difficult for me to ascertain how long I was unconscious for, but rather than the clocks having sped forward they appeared to have sped back, as I found myself back circa 1942 and in the throws of the aforementioned party!

There is no doubting that the party must have been organised by somebody of the highest office as the assembled revelers included high ranking generals from both army and navy all perfectly turned out in full military regalia, most evidently taking a much needed rest from keeping Jerry at bay. It was also jolly good to see that the wives were able to join in the festivities, looking quite ravishing as they danced the Lindy Hop and celebrating with a gay abandon I’ve never previously bourn witness to. Oh, what luck to have the opportunity to relive a type of decadent youth that I missed at the first time of asking!

And then there was you, the gentlemen and ladies of Twin and Tonic, on stage and providing the most wondrous entertainment. Your singers looked gorgeous as ever in their military outfits, and the boys looked most dashing too. It was no small wonder that the crowd were reveling in both music and the spectacle. And as if that wasn’t enough, your headline band Ta Mère raised the rafters to a new level with their wonderful combination of violin, double bass, guitar and harmonica. What a top evening!

I have to say that my recollection of events started to get rather hazy at this point, no doubt as a result of my concussion but certainly not helped by rather liberal quantities of Spitfire larger that I’d taken quite a fancy to! However, I do recall meeting a rather ravishing young lady named Margaret who I do believe was celebrating her birthday that evening, and dancing with a number of fair and beautifully dressed ladies. Now what were their names? Trisha, Maya, Jess, Rowena, Zoe... There’s certainly life within this old dog!

Sad to report that I woke up the next morning in a bed at The Royal London Hospital with aching joints and a large bruise to my forehead. Apparently I’d been found wondering the streets of East London at 3 o'clock in the morning mumbling about a fantastic war time party of dancing, music, and great merriment. I tried to tell the nurse what I’ve now told you, but she returned an unbelieving and disinterested look that I believe the young reserve solely for the old.

But with all honesty I can barely believe myself that what I have said is true. Can it possibly be?

Regards,

xxxxxx xxxxxxx